Bad Luck Incarnate

     “Very cool. I always said it suited you, didn’t I?” 

      “If I tell you, do you pro-- wait, are you wearing black?” 

      “Horndog’s got good hearing, but not that good.”

     Hells Kitchen. “Sheesh, what a dump.” 

    Felicia would have grinned confidently, had her lips not been otherwise occupied, now guided by his gently hand. Back and forth she went, pleasuring him, until she had to take a moment to catch her breath. With a gasp, she drew away, looked up at him through strands of wayward locks and smirked. Things were far from over yet. Giving him a few quick pumps of her hand, she stood, released her grip and took his hands instead, leading him away from the couch, the hazardous coffee table and around to the back of the couch. There, she bent over, gripping the back of the sofa. Flipping her hair back so it hung over one shoulder, she shot him a rather inviting look, in addition to a little wiggle of her hips.